Closer
by Josain Chennuth
Summary: "Four years, no calls. Now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar..." A Huma one-shot based off of Closer by The Chainsmokers


**_WARNING: Mild swearing, implication of sex_**

* * *

"You may now kiss the bride!"

At the priest's declaration, the newly wedded couple kissed sweetly, and the crowd filled with celebratory claps and whistles. It was a beautiful union, one of which rose from two kids with a troubled past. A brunette girl and a black-haired boy found love in the world of the damned, raised by the damned. When they were finally released into paradise, where emotions such as love and passion were encouraged, it was only a matter of time before they solidified their bond for all eternity.

Sitting in the crowd was the bride's younger brother. Their younger sister was standing as the maid of honor. He would never admit it, but the brother was secretly jealous of both of them. He was jealous of their youngest for being able to stand up there with the bride, but fate would naturally have him disapprove of the groom, so he couldn't be a groomsman. He was envious of the bride for not only getting married, but she also held onto her closest confidant through the transition from the Isle to Auradon.

Yes, the brother is Harry Hook, and he was without his Captain.

Four years. It had been four years since the Cotillion. Four years since King Ben finally brought all of the villain kids off of the Isle of the Lost. Four Years since Uma left the Isle before the rest to free them herself. Four years since Uma went missing.

Harry reminisced about those events often, haunted by the lingering question of whether or not he could have prevented her departure while still getting a happily ever after. Even now, as Harriet and Anthony smiled gaily and walked to the back of the room, as he stood and clapped with the rest of the crowd, as he too grinned at the endearing sight of a wedded couple, Harry's mind was focused solely on the condition of his absent friend.

His heart paled to think she was dead, but his thoughts would occasionally ponder on the drastic conclusion. As he followed his fellow patrons out of the hotel's event room, he had another flood of melancholy dejection by a similar account. He hung in the back of the crowd, holding his sterling silver hook close to his side as they flooded towards the reception held in the hotel's ballroom.

The facility wasn't too big, but it was definitely sufficient for a quasi-Auradon wedding. There was a stage at the head of the room for a band, and a bar occupied the opposite side of the room. Now 21 years old, Harry was intent on spending his night at the latter end of the room instead of on the dance floor. Having to walk his sister down the aisle was bittersweet enough; he didn't need to dance by himself, surrounded by his coupled-off friends.

Harry entertained himself with a bottle of beer and the sight of his sisters enjoying themselves. Oh, how he treasured the women in his life–whether or not they were of blood relation. As the bottle bit off some of his emotional edge, a smirk crept onto his sour lips. He leaned back on the bar counter and took another swing of his drink. He wasn't drunk beyond comprehension due to his arguably inherent tolerance–which made it seem as though he was barely drunk at all–but he was able to fake being affected just enough to feel at bliss. That's all his troubled mind needed nowadays, especially since his usual source of ecstasy was gone.

 _Stop thinking about her,_ he chastised himself with another gulp of liquor. He had to keep his composure from falling apart for Harriet and Anthony's sake. This was their day, and the last thing they needed was for him to have a mental breakdown over the catastrophe from four years ago.

But he couldn't help it, and things only got worse. He cursed the life-saving poison in his fist when his nose filled with a salty scent of shrimp. He swore he was nowhere near intoxicated enough to hallucinate, but sure enough, he sensed his Captain's dreaded aroma of crustaceans. He put the bottle down on the counter and asked for a glass of water, hoping to sober up and rid himself of the living nightmare. By the time the bartender obliged, a familiar shade of teal was already bleeding into his vision. Harry closed his eyes as he sipped at his new, cleaner drink. The effect wasn't instant, but he knew he was never that drunk to begin with. He kept his eyes shut, not worrying about how ridiculous he must appear, and tried to focus on the blurring sounds of a pirate-themed band and the incoherent prattle around him. He didn't know how long he kept his eyes closed–one, maybe two minutes tops–but he was hoping to open them and find the teal gone and shrimp smell absent.

Except neither had departed.

Harry's eyes grew wide as saucers as he slowly turned his head to look at the other side of the bar. What he saw filled him with both joy and terror. The joy was because he saw the very lost girl he'd only dreamed of finding again standing there, her elbows leaning on the counter as she looked over her shoulder with a solemn expression every few seconds. Despite the formal nature of the event, she was clad in black leggings and a simple teal blouse under a black leather jacket. Her usual braids would've stood out, but they were undone and cropped so that she had smooth, black, shoulder length hair that ended in teal tips pulled back into a ponytail. Harry couldn't stop staring for a while, and he was thankful that the pretty girl at the hotel bar didn't notice his neatly rimmed eyes taking in every detail about her. The fear inside him came from the assumption that if he looked away, she'd disappear.

Harry set down his glass and crossed over to where she was. She still didn't notice him; she was too rapt with cautiously looking around the room. She must've been trying to avoid getting noticed, but Harry would be the one person to catch on. Her head was turned away from him when he slid up beside her. He didn't get her attention until he knocked on the counter and requested of the bartender, "A drink for the lady, good sir."

Uma snorted in a sarcastic and jeering way, which suggested she still didn't know it was her oldest friend beside her. "Listen here pal, I–" she scoffed, but she cut herself off when she finally realized it was Harry next to her. She thought he was a random party guest trying to make a move, and she was ready to give him a piece of her mind. However, as soon as her eyes landed on his, her tense shoulders fell along with her spiteful smirk. She held his gaze for a long second before turning back to the counter. Harry leaned his forearm onto the wooden surface, but he didn't take his now interrogatory glare off of her. He was starting to put things together in his clearing mind, but there were still things that didn't add up.

"Harry," she muttered in greeting, training her eyes on an empty spot on the shining wood counter.

Harry replied in the same manner with more force, "Uma."

A moment of silence ensued, and Harry was stubborn enough not to break it. Uma took a sidelong glance at him before stating monotonously, "You look well."

"That's all you got?" Harry chuckled in sick amusement. His rhetorical cheer dissolved into confused frustration as he went on, "That's the best you can do after four years of nothing. No calls, no letters, no signs that you're even alive, and now you waltz into my sister's wedding–completely fine–and the only thing you can say is that I look well? How about an explanation?"

He felt his temper slowly slipping away, and it only worsened the longer Uma refused to look at him. He would've been more sympathetic if she showed up scarred and bloodied, as though she fought her way to get to him, and four years was the earliest it took. However, new clothes and a new haircut made it appear as though she took her sweet time. "If you've been alive and well this whole time, why didn't you show up sooner? Why did you abandon me and the crew?"

"I didn't abandon anybody!" She snapped back, though the music and chatter were too loud for her uproar to make any disturbance. She had turned to face him, challenging his cold stare with her defensive one. "The Auradon Police has probably been out for my arrest these past four years. I've been hiding so I wouldn't be sent back to the Isle."

"First of all, we both know that's not true," Harry countered factually, not letting her get off on such a weak excuse. "King Ben made an announcement years ago that you'd be granted amnesty if you were to return. Second of all, that still sounds like abandoning to me."

"Look, Harry," she spat through gritted teeth, trying to contain her frustration at his harsh–albeit logical–accusation. "You don't know the whole story."

"Then tell me!" Harry exclaimed, feeling hurt at being left out of her life. "You used to tell me everything, so what makes right now any different."

Lost for an answer, Uma let a tense silence grow once again. The bartender came out with a shot glass filled with clear liquid, as per Harry's request, and set it down by Uma. She pressed her lips into a thin line and wrapped her fingers around the cool glass. She spoke coldly and distantly, like she was talking to an acquaintance rather than her longest friend. "Tell your friends it was nice to see them all here tonight–" she paused to down the shot in one swift motion "–but I hope I never see you or them again."

With that, she turned on the heel of her boot and stormed off towards the exit, leaving Harry even more puzzled than he was before. After such a long time, their first interaction was, by their nature, hostile. She was so ready to turn and leave again, without telling anyone else that she's alive and never coming back. Harry wasn't okay with that. He could try to be, leave her memory in the dust, stop caring about her.

But he can't stop.

After Uma's form left through the double doors, Harry hastily left some amount of money on the bar counter before hurrying after her. It was difficult to run in slacks and dress shoes, and Uma was much quicker than him. Nonetheless, he persisted until he lost her in the parking garage. The cold night air seeped beneath his dark red-and-black suit, and the concrete amplified the sound of his shoes as he trotted about the different levels. With his head on a swivel and all senses out for his Captain, he eventually heard the depressing sound of a failing engine accompanied by a few vulgar curses.

Harry followed the noises right to an old, rust-covered car. Uma sat in the driver's seat, her face in her hands and her elbows pressed against the torn leather of the steering wheel. She let out an exasperated sigh of frustration as she sat back in her chair with a bitter smile. "Just my luck," she sneered.

"So that's it?" Harry questioned between heavy pants, annoyed by having to run after her following a not-so-heartwarming reunion. She looked up at him from behind the broken car window as he rambled on, "You show up once and then bolt again? Don't you think the crew would want to see you? Not even just Gil?"

Uma still didn't reply. She just stared at him with an unreadable expression. She was always good at hiding her true feelings, especially since it was a necessary skill on the Isle. However, Harry's words were starting to weather away at her internal resolve. The son of Captain Hook had a wild look in his eyes, but it wasn't his usual intimidating gleam. He was confused and angry, and Uma had to admit to herself that he had a right to be.

Harry ran a ring-adorned hand through his messy hair and bit down on his lip. He broke eye contact with Uma and looked out to the black night sky. The view was limited from where he stood in the center of the parking garage, but he could spot the North Star from any viewpoint. It reminded him of a life without worry but still with purpose. One could not lose both lest they lose themselves entirely, which is why it baffled Harry when he couldn't find a reason around Uma's motives. Harry looked back at Uma and, in a calmer but still stern voice, he stated, "I just don't understand why you even showed up here in the first place. What was your goal in coming back this once?"

Uma put her hands in her lap and eyed them, her spiteful nature failing her. She opened the car door and pushed herself out with another sigh. Refusing to look directly at Harry, she moved to the trunk and popped it open. She pulled out a black backpack and set it on the edge of the car before staring blankly into the trunk for a moment. After Harry moved back into the edge of her vision, she decided to confide in him the reason behind her actions. She looked back to him and explained, "I wanted to make sure the crew was doing okay without me. I heard around that Harriet and Anthony were getting married, and I knew you'd invite them all since they're practically family. My plan was to stop by, see everyone happy and living on with me out of the picture, and then move somewhere else and restart. No history on the Isle, no villainous heritage, just…a new me."

Harry felt like he was being stabbed in the chest with every word. She made it sound like some hope-filled, noble adventure, but all he heard was betrayal. She was about to throw away her entire past–including him–based on the allegation that her crew was 'living on' without her. Sure, they were happy at a person's wedding, but Uma didn't know the torturous burden her absence had left on him and a few members of the crew, though their torments weren't nearly as severe as his. Harry stared blankly out of disbelief, and he wasn't snapped out of the brief stupor until Uma slammed the trunk shut. Harry blinked a few times before finding his voice and exclaiming, "Are you serious? You're going to throw away your first seventeen years of memories just because you think we're okay without you! News Flash: Some of us aren't okay, Uma–I'm not okay!"

"Harry, I don't care if this breaks your heart," Uma countered coldly, and Harry was taken aback by her sudden disregard. Perhaps four years apart actually did decay their relationship. She slung the backpack over one shoulder and added with force, "I made a decision, and I'm sticking with it." With that, she stormed past him, brushing his shoulder with her own as she did.

All in that instant, Harry too made a decision. After four years of nothing, he was not about to let Uma slip right through his fingers. He'd suffered too many nights of not knowing, too many days of not seeing, and too many hours of not being with his closest friend. He'd show her she was wrong, and he'd make her see that she had to stay. If he couldn't do it, then maybe the Uma he knew really was just a memory. He gulped at the thought, but he wouldn't know unless he tried.

"Uma, wait," he quickly called out, grabbing her elbow before she could put any more distance between. She whipped her head around and shot him an impatient glare, but Harry didn't challenge it. His brow had softened to show the release of his anger, and his voice only held care and longing as he offered, "At least stay the night at my place. That way you can get some rest before you leave for real. I'll drive you wherever you want in the morning."

Uma turned her whole body to face him, holding his steady gaze with her own. She readjusted the backpack strap on her shoulder and thought on Harry's gesture. She knew it would be hard on both of them, especially when she leaves come daylight. If she left now, she'd leave Harry on poor terms, and even though she thought that would be the better way to go, something in the back of her mind didn't want to leave right then if there was an alternative option. After a long pause occupied by her thoughts, she nodded her head in agreement and whispered graciously, "Thanks, Harry."

"S'my pleasure," Harry replied gruffly. Now all he had was one night. One night to find out what he missed in four years, one night to understand her point of view, and one night to convince her to stay. Otherwise, it was one night to be with her again until she's gone.

The walk to Harry's car was filled only by the sound of their shoes rapping against the concrete, his steps louder and heavier than hers. Once the sleek black rover was in view, Harry pulled out his keys and unlocked the door from a distance. The car squeaked in response, and an impressed whistle sounded from Uma's lips. "How'd you ever afford a car like that?" She inquired.

Harry flicked his eyebrows at her question as he struggled to keep an amused smirk down. He found it ironic that even after four years, she knew he would not have a career to provide a steady income high enough for a new car. College expenses made double sure of that. He looked at Uma with a whimsical look in his eye as he admitted, "Let's just say some habits die hard."

Uma cracked the smallest of smiles at his remark, and they approached the car in silence. Uma threw her backpack into the back seat and slid herself into shotgun while Harry got in the driver's seat and turned on the ignition. His engine roared to life with the authority that Uma's broken down trash heap lacked. He slowly backed out of the parking spot, switched the car to drive, and drove out of the garage. He drove just like he sailed: smoothly and with expert flair.

A few minutes into the ride, Harry found himself lost, not literally but mentally. He'd intended to use this time to persuade Uma into staying with him and the crew, but she had set herself on looking out the window the entire ride. To fill the empty air in the car, Harry turned on the radio and started flipping channels. Even though the music didn't help his cause, it made him feel less uncomfortable, a feeling he wasn't used to around his Captain.

Harry couldn't care less about what song was playing. He let the noises blur just like they had at the wedding reception as he focused on the brightly colored highway. However, his interest was peaked when the beginning of a new song stole Uma's attention from the window. He didn't remember the name or performer of the song, but he knew where he'd heard it before. It was one of those overplayed songs from a few years ago, back when he and Uma were still on the Isle with no hope of getting off. It played on the old radio almost every night, sometimes more than once, and it would fill the empty chip shoppe as Uma swept the floors and cleaned up the joint after a busy night shift. Harry, always wanting to assist her in any way he could, stayed with her and worked on the dishes in the kitchen.

There was one night in particular that gave that song a sense of magic between them. Uma's mood was particularly sour, and when the song came on, Harry decided to do something about her intensified scowl. He left the kitchen to join Uma in the main dining area, and he bowed with his arms out and his feet crossed to mock the mannerisms of the pompous princes across the water. Uma's frown broke as she responded with an over-exaggerated curtsy, and the back-and-forth out of spite for their enemies had begun. The song was slow enough that the two were able to fake a slow dance, all the while feigning their body language as if they were two royals dancing with their True Love. Of course, Harry would eventually realize he never faked a thing. He initiated the act with a silly attempt to make Uma smile, and the playful dance that ensued made part of Harry long for it to be real, that they weren't villain kids, that they were raised in Auradon, that they could dance together with stupid smiles on their faces with hearts aflutter. However, the song would end, and Uma would laugh it off.

 _"What a joke!"_ She had laughed with a sneer as the song faded into the radio static. Harry will never forget how amused she looked in comparison to how he felt. Part of him felt accomplished in uplifting her mood, but the other part wished she'd actually meant it when she looked up at him with doting eyes. He'd shaken the feeling off, buried it to prevent any sign of weakness, and went back to washing dishes as he'd volunteered to do.

Listening to that song again, Harry wondered if Uma too only associated that song with their pretend-royal-ball. He broke his eyes from the road for a split-second to gauge her reaction, but he couldn't read it beneath the cover of the night. Harry focused forward again, cleared his throat, and implored, "Do you remember that time we danced to this?"

"Yeah," she answered after a pause, a light chuckle playing at her voice. Harry let the music play for a little longer before he turned the volume down.

With a dejected tone, he chastised, "Memories like that don't just go away, Uma."

He felt her eyes bore holes into the side of his skull, but he knew he'd said the right thing. If he failed to keep her from leaving, the very least he could do was make sure she didn't forget everything they'd done, everything they had.

Harry pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building and parked along the sidewalk. The building looked dead at night, with no inhabitants ambling around outside to get their mail or talk with their neighbor. As soon as the car stopped, Uma got out and opened the back door to get her bag, which had fallen under the seat amidst the drive. Harry followed suit and stood at the door as she crawled into the backseat to pull her bag from under the chair. However, before Uma even grabbed the shoulder strap, Harry got in beside her and slammed the car door shut.

"Harry, what're you–?"

"I still don't get it," he cut her off, deciding to confront her further about her intentions. "The Uma I know wouldn't have quit on the crew like that, so I need a better explanation than what you've given me."

She held his unrelenting, icy blue stare for as long as she could before pressing her lips into a firm line and whirling around so she wouldn't have to look at him. As much as Harry revered and cared about Uma, his patience was reaching an all-time low with her current behavior. She didn't say a word, and Harry let out an annoyed scoff, "Why can't you just–?"

He cut himself short when she made one heart-shattering sound: a quiet sniffle.

"Uma…" he whispered delicately, completely changing his tone after hearing the slightest evidence of her distress. One of her hands was braced on her knee, and he slowly ventured placing one of his own over top. His hand easily covered her freezing skin, frigid with tension. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles when he heard her sniffle again, this time using her free hand to swipe under her eyes. Harry was done looking at the back of her head, so he risked his other hand to reach out and tenderly touch the bottom of her chin, gradually guiding her face back into his view. Her face was barely illuminated by the single street lamp outside, but Harry could still make out every detail which he had committed to memory. Only a few stray tears had fallen so far, but her throat was strained as if she were holding back an entire ocean behind her dark eyes. Harry hated seeing her like this. With desperation laced in his whisper, he pleaded, "Please tell me what's wrong."

She sniffled again, eyes darting to the side as she let out a shaky breath. After a long pause, in which Harry had taken it upon himself to squeeze her hand in his, she warbled, "I'm a big failure, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. How could she ever think such a thing? She was a captain of her own crew at the age of seventeen. She snuck off the Isle on her own, without an invitation from the King. Harry could go on and on about the reasons why she wasn't a failure, yet Uma somehow thought she was. "What do you mean?" He voiced his confusion

"I was supposed to be the one who freed the kids on the Isle," she said, her voice catching every other word, "I failed."

"But we're here, Uma," Harry insisted. "We're in Auradon."

"Yeah, because some king took pity on us," she said scornfully. "Now instead of living like royalty like I promised, we're just some people from the wrong side of the bridge."

"You're missing my point," Harry said delicately. He pressed his lips into a flat line and kept his hand on the side of her face, ensuring her eyes and attention were on him. He brushed a few of her stray tears away with his thumb. "We're not just in Auradon. We're _living_ in Auradon. It's been four years, and not a single major catastrophe has occurred by the hand of a villain kid. They're happier here.

He paused for a moment, noticing no change in her expression. "And there's been no question from anyone on who got us to Auradon. It began with your influence," Harry went on, a smile of pride growing on his lips and trying to coax a similar one out of her. "No one resents you or thinks you're a failure. We've only been worried about you."

Her lip quivered, but she didn't shed another tear. He said 'we,' but she could tell from the concern in his eyes that his worry stood out from the others. She had this gnawing temptation to look away, to disregard what he was saying, but she couldn't take her eyes off of his. Uma couldn't say or do anything but get lost in the surreal blue.

"Uma," Harry said, his smile falling into a serious frown but his voice remaining even. "I know you think everyone here is better with you gone, but it's like I said before. We're not okay. _I'm_ not okay."

He removed his fingers from her chin and reached up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. He slowly lowered his hand. The instant Uma felt his lingering fingers leave her skin, her chest tightened, like someone was pulling on her heart. It moved her to lift a hand up to meet his as it descended. Both of them seemed to freeze in space, this new reaction speaking of a new development in Uma. They spent a silent moment just staring at their voluntarily touching hands. A tiny bit of hope pinched in Harry's gut, and it slowly spread as she moved to intertwine her fingers with his.

"It's crazy, ye know," Harry mused with a faint smile. Uma was still staring at their joined hands, appearing as though deep in thought. Harry prayed she was finally reconsidering her decision. "Time hasn't changed the way I feel about you. There hasn't been a single day these past four years where you weren't on my mind. And Uma…"

When his hesitation lasted longer than she anticipated, Uma looked up with a furrowed brow. Harry caught her eye and admitted earnestly, "I'm a shipwreck without you."

"You're not a shipwreck, Harry," Uma assured him with a subtle shake of her head and one of the only smiles she'd assumed all night. She looked down at her hands, one of which was still loosely woven with Harry's, and let out a bittersweet snort, "If anything, I'm a shipwreck."

"You're beautiful," Harry corrected almost immediately, an expression of absolute certainty plastered to his face. He gave her no time to think of herself as any less than omnipotent. Uma snapped her head back up, her eyes wide as saucers. She couldn't come up with a response, for with his declarative compliment, he had leaned in, putting his face mere inches away from hers.

He held her gaze for the longest moment, bearing utmost determination and devotion in his stare. Uma's breath caught in her throat when his eyes began to drift downward, towards her cheeks, her nose, until they set on where her mouth was stuck agape. His movement was so slow and smooth, as if he were the gentle low tide. With great tenderness, he pressed his lips to hers.

Uma was frozen, muscles rigid in alarm and eyes stuck wide open in utter shock. The kiss was brief, only lasting a few seconds before Harry pulled back. He remained intimately close, his eyes darting across her face to gauge her reaction. Uma thought her heart was going to burst through her chest at the rate it was beating. In that moment, she began to see what she'd missed in the four years that she was gone. She thought she wanted to start over, but really she longed for all that she had before.

Drawn like a magnet, Uma swiftly closed the space between them once again, this time catching Harry off guard. He caught on quick, the corners of his mouth curling upward in a smirk as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Uma raised a hand to his hair, gently tangling her fingers in the ends. Both of them were enveloped in bliss, but Harry had to make sure this wasn't the end.

"Stay," he pleaded when they'd parted.

"Harry–" Uma began, sounding as if she might try to resist again, but Harry didn't give her a chance to try and talk her way out of it. It was a yes or no. No more of these excuses.

"Stay," he repeated, his voice stronger than it was the first time. He bit his lip, desperately searching her eyes for the answer while she was silent. After what felt like forever, Uma slowly nodded her head.

"Yeah," she agreed weakly, a grin spreading onto her lips, "Okay, I'll stay."

Harry's worried expression quickly flipped into one of utter happiness. He wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a warm, tight embrace. Uma let her arms hang off his shoulders, and she buried her face into the crook of his neck. For the first time in four years, she felt wanted again. For the first time in her life, she felt loved.

Harry eventually led Uma out of his rover and up to his apartment. It was small and not very tidy, but Uma knew Harry wasn't exactly rolling in dough with the widespread workplace discrimination against villain kids coupled with his lack of college degree. There was a living room, a small corridor that served as a kitchen, and a bedroom through the door on the other side of the kitchen. Harry put Uma's bag on a nearby chair while Uma stood in the center of the living room.

"I apologize for the mess," Harry said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and kicking a discarded leather jacket to the other side of the room. "If I'd known you were coming back, I would've straightened out a bit."

Uma chuckled in response. She would've been much less comfortable if the room was clean. There was something about the way the occasional magazine, book, or article of clothing was left askew on the ground that Uma found charming and undeniably Harry.

"Anyway," Harry said as he crossed the room to stand right in front of her. He tugged the bottom of his red blazer down to smooth any creases before folding his hands together. He cleared his throat, "I'm sure you're tired. You can have the bed, and I'll take the couch."

Uma looked off to the side at the closed door that led to Harry's bedroom, her lips pursed in thought. Harry was unsure what her expression meant, so he added, "The mattress is new, actually. I er…borrowed it from an old roommate."

Uma stifled a laugh at his failure to cover up his obvious truth. Mattresses weren't really something you 'borrowed,' so Uma knew that Harry's old roommate wasn't getting his mattress back.

Making up her mind, Uma slipped her hand into Harry's. "I have a better idea," She told him.

With a curious Harry in tow, Uma walked across the living room and into the kitchen. She led him to the closed bedroom door and turned around, leaning against the white wood. Without warning, she took Harry's face in both of her hands and pulled it down to hers, kissing him hard. Harry slipped a hand to the small of her back to pull her closer to him. Uma's fingers seemed to burn Harry's skin with their delicate touch, only adding to his rekindled fire that was dormant for so long. Their first kiss in the car was just a taste of their withheld passion. Now, they were overflowing with it.

Harry pulled away for a brief moment. Both of them were breathless, but neither were entirely satisfied. A smirk made its way onto Harry's expression, and he asked slyly, "What are you doing?"

Uma flicked her eyebrows up in suggestion before her hands slid off his face, down his neck, down his chest until they reached the couple of buttons that held his blazer closed. She did away with them and pulled him back down by the lapels, an adoring yet mischievous smile plastered on her face. "Making up for lost time," she replied coyly.

Harry got the message loud and clear.

Sliding the blazer off his arms and tossing it to the counter, his lips found Uma's once more, a newfound hunger becoming his instinct. Uma let her jacket slip off her shoulders and onto the floor before tangling her hands in his hair. While he was caught up in her kiss, he fumbled with the cufflinks on his silk black shirt, and they fell to the floor with a rhythmic _clink_. With his hands now free, he effortlessly picked Uma up and held her against the door, and she loosely wrapped her legs around his waist.

They took a second to break their kiss for breath, their noses still touching and a smile never leaving either of their faces. Harry started again on her lips, and from there he worked his way across her jaw, towards her ear, and down her neck. Uma's breath hitched in her throat when he tenderly bit into her skin, followed by a blissful moan of pleasure. She let her eyes flutter shut and her head rest against the door as Harry continued, not letting the strap of her blouse keep him from sinking his teeth into the skin along her shoulder.

Harry pulled her into his chest with one arm while the other reached for the door handle. Once the door was open, he pushed past it, still carrying Uma against him. Uma couldn't help but laugh as they entered the dimly lit room, biting her lip as she reached over Harry's shoulder and slammed the door shut behind them.

* * *

Uma woke the next morning on her side, feeling as though she was still inside a euphoric dream. Much to her content, she looked down to find that she had in fact not dreamed the whole thing. She was clad in sheets all the way up to her chest, her loose hair was released from its ponytail, and braced across her middle was a relaxed, well-muscled arm.

Uma smirked to herself. Through the sheets that separated them, she could feel his warmth radiating into her back, and every restful breath sent a pleasant tickle across the skin on the back of her neck. He wasn't awake yet, and Uma wasn't in any need for either of them to be. She didn't have a train to catch or a flight to make any more. She was staying, and she was staying with Harry.

Uma closed her eyes, draping her arm over top of his and intertwining their fingers together. She nestled herself further into him, finding the most comfort in their proximity. With a content sigh, Uma let herself fall back into slumber in the arms of someone she loved.

It was a beautiful union, one of which rose from two kids with a troubled past. A teal-haired girl and a brunette boy found love in the world of the damned, raised by the damned. When they were finally released into paradise, where emotions such as love and passion were encouraged, it was only a matter of time before they, after finding one another, solidified their bond for all eternity.

* * *

 **Hope you guys liked it! Leave a review and tell me what you think. Have a great day! -Jojo, who started writing this last October, what the heck this took forever! 3**


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